Cursed and Gifted
by Silver Butterfly 111
Summary: She had been gifted with the power to bestow miracles and had not yet accepted it; but a gift like that can easily put a target on your back. That's why he was there. To protect her with his curse. He had accepted his part in the story. Heed this warning: History should never repeat itself. (Past Ladybug and Cat)
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

…

 **France 1650**

 **T** he shriek of the horses' screams echoed in her ears and the girl stumbled over the uneven cobblestones as she clapped her hands over her ears. She cried out in panic as she heard the sounds of shouts getting closer and closer. Mother had told her to run.

 _Run Rosanna, Run!_

 _She had managed to lose three of the riders in the chaos of the crowd scattering but the fourth rider had been determined to catch her regardless of who he trampled in the process._

She knew they were close behind her now, she sensed them. The way frightened animals seemed to sense when the earth was about to start shaking. The earth was shaking now, the pounding of hoof beats causing the earth to tremble underneath her small feet and she stumbled for a second time, falling to her knees and scraping the skin on her knees. She smelled the coppery scent of blood in her nose. The hot breath on her neck as the horse bore down upon her and reared; another deafening shriek emitting from its throat like the cry of an unholy demon. Mother had said be brave don't cry but she could already taste the salt of her tears as her vision blurred and the horse let out a third scream of rage. She through her hands up as if that would shield her from the blow of the horse's hooves to her skull.

The horse's feet thundered back to the earth, striking the stones with a crash, sliver sparks spitting where steel struck against stone. Rosanna opened her eyes cringing away from the sight of the horse's massive hoof mere inches from her face. She scrambled to her feet still trembling from the scare and fled from the towering beast that was straining at the bit. Its rider cursing the animal and kicking it. Demanding it move.

Rosanna made the mistake of glancing over her shoulder to see her pursuer dismounting the animal, they gaze he pinned her with was nothing short of murderous. Rosanna bolted down the street.

"Come back here wretch!"

Rosanna was too frightened now to scream for help, she bolted down the street and flung herself into an alleyway nearly gone blind from her tears she pressed herself against the stone wall. Her spine flaring in protest from the force with which she hit the wall. She bit her tongue to swallow the scream of pain and prayed the man hadn't seen exactly which alley she'd taken shelter in.

Heartbeat in her throat, Rosanna gripped at the wall to keep herself upright as her feet swayed beneath her. She had to keep going that man was still coming he'd find her soon. Her fingers scrapped against stone as she clawed for a better grip and she took only a moment to look around her and gather her bearing.

The alley was dim, the majority of sunlight blocked from the space by stone. Rosanna strained her ears to pick out the man's heavy footsteps but her ears were still ringing from the horse's screams. She edged her way back toward the mouth of the alley and peeked around the stone. Hands suddenly grabbed her and she let out a deafening cry of surprise, twisting in the man's grip but his hands were clamped around her like iron.

She twisted her head and bit the man's hand as hard as she could. He howled and let go spitting in her face saying something she didn't really hear because she was already running down the street once more. Desperate to escape this man and find her mother again.

She scrambled toward the sounds of voices and carriage wheels perhaps if she could reach this road she could cause another panic.

A small red bug became visible for just a moment through her tears and Rosanna focused on it; her mother's voice coming into her head. _'Look at the ladybug, Rosanna. It wants to play a game, it wants you to follow.'_

 _We are playing a game._ Rosanna thought, in a voice that sounded like her voice but older. _We are playing chase with the ladybug._

With this thought planted firmly in her mind she pushed herself forward the last little bit until the alley spit her out into the sunlight. Overjoyed to not hear any obvious signs of pursuit she quickened her pace, the excitement of escape made her near obvious to the sensation of falling, of stumbling into the road right into the path of a carriage.

The horses' snorted and reared. Rosanna let out an unrestrained sob having just escaped her ordeal to place herself in another one. "Whoa, whoa, easy now, steady." The voice that reached her ears was that of a man trying to calm the horses amid the screech of the carriage wheels and Rosanna's distressed sobbing.

She crouched in the street, ready to bolt at the sight of an elderly man exiting the carriage.

"What's your name?"

Rosanna turned her wide green eyes on the elderly man.

"Come with me please?" The man offered his hand and Rosanna flinched away.

"Don't touch me!"

The man recoiled in shock from her tone.

"I want to help you," The man assured gently. "I won't let anyone touch you ever again. I promise."

Rosanna stood slowly not bothering to brush the dirt off her dress as she eyed the man warily.

"It's alright, I just want to help you I promise. I won't make you come. If you do not wish to come."

"My mother-" Rosanna began and the man seemed to understand her hesitation in an instant.

"I will go and look for her I will find her if I can."

The sound of enraged footsteps came from around the corner, echoed by a distant thunderstorm of hoof beats and Rosanna spun around eyes wide, ready to bolt like a hunted animal at the thought of those men giving chase to her once more.

"Quickly, child, quickly! Come now." The older man insists, throwing the carriage door wide open and ushering the distressed girl inside. The carriage shot forward without a word from the man and bumped along the cobblestones. Rosanna turned to look out the window as the strange man leapt out of the way to avoid getting trampled by the two white horses as they tossed their heads and snorted. "Do not look back." Rosanna jumped and turned to face the older man, looking down at her feet as she was scolded. "Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere away from here." The man reassured and despite his gentle tone Rosanna felt a rush of panic.

"My mother. We have to go back for my mother. She- she told me to run to the church and I-"

Rosanna cut herself off and stared wide eyed at the old man as he stroked his beard the way she had seen a lot of adults do when they were thinking.

"It will be alright, I will take you to the church and we will wait for your mother there." Not knowing what else to say Rosanna simply nodded as she began to tremble as the last of her adrenaline wore off and left only fear in its wake. Mom had told her to be brave. Brave people did not cry. Rosanna's lip trembled and the older man reached forward to comfort her but Rosanna shied away. "Leave me alone." The man pulled away and looked at her carefully. "It's alright, you don't need to be afraid of me, I am a friend. I promise."

Rosanna wiped her hand across her face, trying to stop the tears.

"Mama said that I would find friends at the church who would protect me from the angry men. This isn't the church. You are not my friend."

She expected the man to get angry and start yelling but instead he just started to laugh.

Rosanna watched him, very much confused.

"What's so funny?" She demanded, stomping her foot on the wooden floor of the carriage, on the verge of throwing a fit.

"Oh nothing is funny at all child."

"Then why are you laughing?"

"You are very clever girl, a very clever and lucky girl."

He reached into a pocket hidden by the folds of his robes and pulled out an odd shaped red and black box with a strange design that Rosanna couldn't really make sense of. He handed the box to Rosanna who eyed it with curiosity.

"And I assure you I am very much a friend." The man said. Rosanna looked between him and the box.

"Go on. Take it." The man insisted, waving the pretty little box in front of her.

"What's inside?"

"A lucky girl needs, good luck dose she not?"

Overwhelmed with curiosity; Rosanna grabbed the box out of the man's hand and touched the smooth and painted wood. It was a very pretty box. Very pretty box.

"Go on open it." The man encouraged.

Rosanna lifted the lid and saw a pair of earrings resting on a red velvet cloth.

"They are earrings." The little girl reported, a small on her face as she saw the tiny black and red jewels. "They look like ladybugs." The little girl looked up at the old man and grinned. Her terror forgotten.

"They do." The man spoke as if he just realized this but when Rosanna saw his smile it was one of those secret smiles that usually made her angry at adults for a reason that she did not understand.

She found that she didn't feel angry at this man at all, she closed the lid on the little jewelry box and reached out her tiny arm. The man smiled wider and shook his head. "You can keep them if you want." The man smiled at her and then frowned, turning serious the way that adults so often do and Rosanna felt a measure of her fear returning as she tried to keep the man's gaze.

"You have to promise me that you'll look after them, alright? They are very special, lots of people are going to want them."

Rosanna looked down at the box and smiled to herself.

"Mama always says to share."

"You'll share these don't worry." The man said, his eyes gleaming. Just as the carriage rolled to a stop on the cobblestone road outside of the church and Rosanna was being told to hurry out of the carriage. She may have been young but even Rosanna noticed that the man looked over his shoulder as he shut the doors to the church with an echoing thud that made her jump. She had never been inside a church before. She didn't think that they were supposed to be empty. She turned around in a circle staring up at the celling and racing up the steps of the pulpit to look out over the empty room. This strange new place was so exciting that she almost forgot why she was here.

"Mama?"

Her mother didn't come out of hiding and Rosanna turned to look at the man, silently demanding an explanation for why he had lied to her.

"Where's my mama?"

"She will come when she can." The man reassured though he looked worried himself. Grownups were not supposed to be worried. Rosanna sat down on the steps of the pulpit with a pout, trying to decide if she should cry or start yelling.

"We'll wait for her as long as we can alright." The man said.

There was the echoing sound of footsteps and another man that Rosanna did not recognize appeared from down one of the hallways. "You're back." The new man said, looking at Rosanna for a moment before he turned and walked down the hallway. "We have something to discuss." The other man said. Both adults started to walk away from her.

Rosanna jumped to her feet, her panic swelling in her chest and pushing a desperate yell out of her mouth. "Where are you going?" "Stay there, I'll be back. Brother Dominick and I just have to talk about something. Your mother should be here soon, can you be brave enough to wait here by yourself?"

Rosanna looked between the two adults for a moment before she nodded and sat back down on the steps.

 _Grown-up talk was boring. She would rather be bored by herself then bored with adults._

Rosanna watched the two men disappear and she heard a door shut.

She sat and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Then decided that she would rather be bored if she had company.

She stood up and walked to the end of the room, eyeing the hallway warily. She pressed herself against the wall and walked along as quiet as she could manage, which she thought was very quiet indeed. She pressed her ear to every door she passed just to make sure that she wasn't missing any other talking even though she could hear the grown-ups very well. Grown-ups were not very go at being quiet sometimes. She was almost to the door when she finally could hear them.

"-that we get her out of here as soon as possible."

"I agree, she won't understand, it's extremely important that she learn as quickly as possible, you said that Brother Richard in England has a lead?"

"I already sent the box ahead with another of the brethren but it may be. Difficult in this case…"

A sigh.

"When is it ever easy?"

"Considering the circumstances you described to me, it's a miracle we found her at all. She isn't showing signs yet?"

"She is, but as I have said, she does not understand. She is afraid. She will not let me come near her, she fears I will hurt her."

A silence and Rosanna was about to walk away. Why did grown-ups have to be so confusing when they talked?"

"That may be a problem if we are ever able to confirm this lead in London. It will be difficult to get them to work together, to cooperate with each other."

"They may very well be afraid of each other, but that is the least of my concerns at the moment. I am questioning why these ones are showing signs so young."

"Promising Holders show signs. The younger the better, they can learn quickly and they will be wise when the time comes. The world is changing and so must the Miraculouses."

* * *

 **So...I'm rewriting this...I was reconsidering the plot and I thought that I could handle this story better so hopefully it works out the way I want it to this time.**


	2. Godsend

**Chapter 1**

…

 **London, 1665**

 **T** he crowd in the chamber of the temple went from reverent silence to nearly desperate chaos when the young woman appeared. Some even rushed towards the stairs of pulpit trying to reach the figure whom was now kneeling in her red silk dress before the blind man sitting on the stone floor; oblivious to the growing chaos behind him save for what he could hear.

The young woman to her credit did not flinch at the mob trying to fight their way up the steps only to shy away moments later when they spotted the other figure standing at the top of the pulpit steps, his face obscured by the hood of a black velvet cloak. Nothing visible save his mouth which was set in a tight line of disapproval.

Those closest to the steps nervously stumbled backwards stepping on the toes of the people behind them until the mass of people had shifted back enough to leave two feet of space between themselves and the pulpit.

The chaos faded into hushed whispers the people's attention split between watching the young woman -trying to read her face which was hidden from their view by a red silk veil- and casting wary glances towards the black cloaked figure who guarded the steps.

The entire room seemed to hold its breath as the kneeling woman moved. Placing her hands on the blind man's forehead as she began to speak. The words so quiet that only her veil moved slightly with each breath as her hands began to glow from within with a soft red light.

The crowd watched in silent awe as the woman moved her hands from the man's forehead, down his face to rest gently over his sightless eyes.

Where they stayed.

The room leaned forward, holding its breath as they waited. The glow faded from the girl's hands and she pulled them away from the man's face.

The man blinked. Once. Twice, he began to quietly weep as he reached for the girl's hands again and kissed them.

The crowd erupted in cheers that rose up to echo off the faraway stone ceiling as the woman offered the sobbing man a sweet smile and helped him to his feet.

The formerly blind man turned to face the crowd, beaming as he looked out upon them.

A woman and two children pushed their way to the front of the crowd and rushed the pulpit steps heedless of the black clad figure who simply stepped aside to let them pass.

The children embraced their father with joyous cries whilst the man's wife embraced the woman; who returned the stranger's hug offering whispered reassurances to the teary-eyed woman.

"She is Godsend!" The man's wife cried, turning to address the crowd as they sent up another cheer.

The newly healed man approached the woman once more and the room fell silent but the next words were spoken so quietly that only the six people on the pulpit heard the man's request.

"May one of the first things my eyes see be the face of she who has blessed me with renewed sight?"

The woman paused, her fingers toying with the edge of her silk veil, uncertain.

No one saw the man in the black cloak move but in the next moment his hand rested on the woman's shoulder in a silent but clear warning. Regardless of whether the warning was for the woman not to reveal her face or for the man who had suggested such a thing. The family shied away from the black cloaked figure on instinct.

The woman in red offered the man an apologetic smile through her veil as she reached to place her own hand over the hand on her shoulder.

Reassured the man stepped away, lingering behind the woman's shoulder.

The woman turned back to face the family, shaking her head in response to the man's request and dropping her hand away from her veil.

The Master- a small elderly man- appeared from the shadows near the back of the pulpit where he had been silently observing the proceedings.

He rested a hand on the blind man's shoulder and ushered the man and his family down the steps.

The woman in red swept her veiled gaze over the people who waited patiently for her to make her next choice but before the woman could decide whom to bestow her next miracle upon, the man in the black cloak leaned over her shoulder, said something in her ear and began leading her to the side of the pulpit, ignoring the look of inquiry from the Master.

The black cloaked man reached out a gloved hand and opened a door.

The two of them disappeared and no one in the room dared say a word of protest.

* * *

"Let go of my arm Samuel!" Rosanna demanded, halting her footsteps so that her companion had no choice but to halt or risk pulling her hand from its socket.

Samuel released her hand, spun around to face her and threw back the hood of his cloak all in one seamless motion.

Pinning his blue eyes on her with a look that would kill...it was very possible it might.

"Don't look at me like that." Rosanna demanded, throwing back her veil just so that she could meet his intense glare with one of her own.

Samuel continued to stare disapprovingly at her but she refused to back down. He might scare the entirety of London- maybe even all of Europe- but he didn't scare her.

She didn't enjoy the idea of having a shouting match with him though, no point in testing his temper when she could already feel his powers threatening to spill over. She had to go about this rationally or he would hit the wall and cause the entire building to crumble down on top of them.

She met his unflinching stare and sighed. "The man didn't mean anything by it, they always ask to see my face...they don't understand... but would it kill you not to act like this every single time?"

"I wouldn't have to drag you off if you didn't always act so willing. They _can't_ see our faces. That's the point."

"I know that, but would it be so bad if people knew-"

"Rosa."

She pointedly ignored the nickname, ignored the tone that was both stern and gentle.

"No, I'm serious, they put us on a pedestal! Would it be so bad to show them that we look like them? That we're human despite our abilities."

Samuel tugged off his gloves, tendrils of black smoke curling between his fingers, a silver ring set with a black obsidian stone glinting on his finger.

"They put _you_ on a pedestal, not me."

"They respect-"

"They _fear_ me, they fear _this_!" He waved his hand in the air and Rosanna could smell the scent of burning, of rot and decay. Of destruction.

"So wouldn't it make sense to show them that you're a person? That we're like them?"

She regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth.

"We're _not_ like them Rosanna, it's why we can't leave here," Samuel turned his face up to the ceiling, hands curled into fists and spitting black smoke.

"You know I didn't mean it like that." She tucked her hair behind her ear brushing her fingers against the red stone drilled into her earlobe.

"I just….I don't know why we have to hide from the people we're supposed to help."

"The Master says it's not safe."

"I know,"

She waited a moment and when he didn't say anything she continued.

"Do you ever wish that we could just- leave?"

He said nothing and when she turned to look at him, to try to read the answer on his face. He'd slid the emotionless mask into place, and she took that as answer enough.

This was not the time, nor place to discuss such things. They had other more pressing matters to deal with besides her wishful thinking.

She sighed softly, turning away and sparing a glance towards the door that would lead them back the way they'd come. Samuel's footsteps echoed in tandem with hers as Rosanna marched purposely down the hallway, retracing their steps.

* * *

The darkened and now empty corridors were silent. Nothing moved, not even Samuel as he watched her enter the empty chamber of the temple that hours before had been crowded with those desperate souls.

She cast a cautious glance towards the door that lead out of the temple and out to the street.

She turned away and crossed to the far side of the room, lighting a single candle from the mass of white candles along the back wall.

She spoke without turning to him.

"I know you're there, are you going to come and sit with me? Or do you want to just stand there?"

Her voice carried to him easily enough, echoing slightly despite the fact that it was barely a whisper.

She turned to look at him, draping her arm over the back of the wooden bench.

In any other circumstance he would have accepted her invitation but he felt like he would be intruding on something that should have belonged to solely her.

She was simply inviting him to sit with her because she had been taught her graces and was being polite.

She was still watching him, the patient, expectant smile twitched, threatening to turn into a frown.

It was in that moment that Samuel realized that he knew her better than any other person in London and that the sense of knowledge worked for her as well as it did for him.

Her smile had fully turned into a frown by the time he managed to pull himself out of his thoughts.

Her green eyes flicking like the candlelight dancing on the wall behind her, concern and curiosity mixing into one single emotion that he did not have a name for.

She turned slightly so that he could only see half of her face, pale skin turning gold from the light of the candle. She spoke again her voice even more quiet than the first time.

"Come sit." the words despite being quiet and gentle held an undertone of demand: Orders he could follow orders it was still a request but he chose to take it as a summons.

Samuel detached himself from the shadows, footsteps silent against stone as he approached.

She moved just as quietly, barely a whisper of silk as she shifted to make room for him on the bench.

She turned to look at the candle, he did the same and neither of them ventured to break the silence that settled between them so completely that he swore he could hear her heartbeat inside her chest.

She spoke once again, shattering the silence so unexpectedly that he turned to look at her.

"I have to apologize for what I said earlier- I didn't mean any of it."

He knew she was lying- he could always tell when someone was lying especially her. He felt his heart clench as if someone had stabbed him with a knife. The fact that she would lie to him at all- even if it was to spare whatever feelings she thought she might have wounded- it hurt him.

"You meant it, you might not have meant to say it, but you meant it."

She lowered her head, looking at her hands folded in her lap and he had the sudden urge to touch her because words seemed an inadequate form of comfort.

He reached for her... and pulled back, hand clenching into a fist before he rested it on his knee.

In all the years they had known each other he had never dared touch her unless it was absolutely necessary and even in those moments he would hesitate for fear of hurting her with the power that always seemed to hum underneath his skin.

Touching her felt like tainting her with his curse. He always feel guilty in the moments after he touched her shoulder or her hand when he had to pull her away from the masses of people whenever she felt compelled to reveal her face. Guiltier still when he realized that he missed it when they were not touching each other.

Where his touch was tainted, her touch was purified and the entire city of London had put her on a pedestal, worshipped her for the miracles that happened at her touch; and he was no better than the rest of them.

He was a desperate soul like the rest of them, he had accepted his cursed gift, damn what the rest of London thought of him, the only person he wished to be in the good graces of was her. She was his equal, his opposite but he often caught himself thinking of her as his better.

"Sometimes, I just- I don't know why it was me of all people, what if I make a mistake? I don't want to disappoint anyone, you, the Master-"

He turned to her, his heart giving another painful twist and consequences be damned. He reached for her a second time taking her hand and pressing his lips to the back of her palm, running his thumb along her skin in circles. "You could disappoint all of London, you might even disappoint the Master but you will _never_ disappoint me."

He looked up when she didn't respond and saw her blinking at him her lips parted slightly in surprise.

He recoiled from the confusion on her face, her hand falling from his fingers and she rested it on her knee whilst he mentally kicked himself for doing something he had never had the nerve to do in all the years that he had known her. He had _never_ touched her in such a way. Never should have dared.

She did not meet his face, only stared at her hand as if she had never seen it before and said nothing. He stood unable to bare her silence. He couldn't even bring himself to explain why he had done something so rash, his tongue wouldn't have worked even if he tried.

He pressed his lips together trying to ignore the taste of her that lingered on them as he turned away from her and made it half a step before he felt something stop him.

It was his turn to blink in surprise as his eyes flicked down to where her fingers had wrapped around his wrist. His gaze shot from her hand around his wrist to her face; shadows and light dancing across her expression cast from the light of the candle which still burned- forgotten to him until this moment.

He had been prepared to find disgust written on her face. He found nothing of the sort. Her face held nothing besides the soft and patient smile and her voice was just as soft as she spoke. "Thank you."

Those two words left him even more stunned than her fingers still on his wrist... she sounded….. Grateful and it shook him to his core, no one had ever thanked him for anything at least he couldn't recall a time that someone had done such a thing with that amount of sincerity.

"Sam?" Rosanna questioned letting go of his wrist as she tilted her head to look at him with growing concern when he remained silent.

The moment her fingers left his wrist the spell upon him broke. He took a cautious step away from her.

"I'm fine." He attempted to reassure her and failed miserably. He was a hypocrite, a bloody hypocrite insisting that she not lie to him and then turning around and lying to her. Her smile quickly morphed into a frown again but before she could question him again or he could dig his grave further by deepening the lie in an attempt to convince her as well as himself….the candle sputtered and died plunging them both into unexpected darkness and he reached for her a second time, to pull her up and lead her through the dark.


	3. No Man Should Play God

**I was going to post this chapter on Saturday but I got too impatient...**

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

 **S** amuel retraced his footsteps. Conflicted. He entered the room and stared up at the shadows covering the empty pulpit. The memory of voices echoing inside his head; raised not in praise but in fear and ridicule.

The scene metalized out of shadows and memory until he saw the shapes of the mob in the shadows on the walls. He felt the buzz of his power walking beneath his skin and he pressed his eyes shut. Trying to calm the sudden memory that he come out of the shadows and was whispering in his ear…..

 _ **London 1658**_

 _The man loomed over him. Forcing him to his knees in front of the man on top of the pulpit. The rope that bound his hands rubbed against his wrist. He felt a flash of rage…it would be easy to turn the rope to ash. Easy to turn on his captor and release the unfortunate power that bubbled underneath his skin. This was all his father's fault. Some part of him regretted what he had done. Was outright horrified at what he had done to his father. Another, darker part of him was pleased. 'Let that bastard burn in hell!' That same part of him was speaking now. Tempting him to burn the rope to ash and turn the dark power that killed his father on the man that had bound his hands in rope._ ' _As if that will stop me.' He thought. Flexing his fingers, his power gathering beneath his skin as he listened to the temptation to release his power on this mob that wished him dead. He heard footsteps from behind him as the man retreated, going to the head of the mob. Samuel gathered his courage, preparing to stand and turn his fury toward his dead father on this mob._

 _He tensed and lifted his head at the sound of footsteps, watching as a man in robes came toward him. He looked at him for only a moment, his eyes flashing with rage and Samuel opened his mouth to defend himself from judgement. Only to snap his mouth shut as the priest turned his angered gaze on the mob gathered behind Samuel._

" _Why have you brought him here?"_

 _There was the sound of hundreds of shuffling footsteps as the mob shifted uncomfortably._

" _He's to be hanged." The leader of the mob- the one who had bound his hands in rope- spoke over the sound of shouting. "We demand he confesses for his crime." More voice rose up, echoing off the ceiling._

" _Silence!" The priest bellowed and Samuel felt more than saw the entire mob flinch._

' _You shall have your confession from this man but you will not be able to hear it if you are all screaming like a bunch of heathens."_

 _The priest closed the remaining distance between them and Samuel lowered his gaze to the man's feet. His anger turning into shame. The man placed his hands upon Samuel's head and Sam recoiled. "Do not touch me." The mob started shouting again but this time they were ignored._ " _I'll tell the truth, just do not touch me." Sam lifted his eyes away from the floor to look at the man's face. Surprised to see pity there instead of anger._

" _You realize that you are about to be hung, you have been accused of witchcraft and murder. You have been given the title of a sinner.'_

 _Samuel hung his head in shame._

" _I trust you to tell the truth son, but I still must touch you. I know you will not hurt me."_

" _I cannot make any promises of that, Sir." Samuel said to the floor._

" _That I know as well." The priest replied calmly._

 _This time Samuel did not recoil from the man when he placed his hands on Samuel's head._

 _To Samuel's relief, the power underneath his skin buzzed and went silent and he exhaled as the man spoke._

' _You have been brought before me, a sinner, and accused of witchcraft and murder of the head of a noble house. You're sentenced to be hanged for these crimes and the city of London demands a public confession; 'What is your name?'_

" _Samuel Arden."_

 _The mob fell into silence at the name._

' _You claim noble blood, the same noble blood that you have slaughtered.' the priest did not seem shocked as he spoke._

" _I am not proud."_

' _And you still claim it?'_

" _Yes."_

 _'Why would you claim the name of the man you have slaughtered?'_

" _I am his son."_

' _Impossible!' The leader of the mob screamed. "Sir Arden never had a son. His wife is unable to bear children!"_

" _He speaks the truth." the priest said gently._

" _My father had an affair."_

' _You are bastard born?'_

" _He wished for an heir, badly enough to take a commoner to his bed."_

' _And when you learned of this you killed him?'_

 _Samuel set his mouth into a line. He knew he was guilty. He had sworn to tell the truth and yet he held his tongue. He did not want to die._

' _Speak,' the priest commanded, raising his voice over the muttering of the impatient mob._

" _Or I cannot save you from your fate. I must know, are you guilty as they say you are?"_

 _He did not wish to speak, he lifted his head in a silent plead but froze when he felt something cold brush against his forehead._

 _Shocked, he opened his mouth to gasp at the cold and his tongue betrayed him._

" _Yes, I killed him." The words came out in a rush now._

" _He was ashamed of me, ashamed of himself. I was a reminder of his greatest sin; he said I was his downfall so that is what I became."_

 _Samuel lifted his eyes from the floor as the cold pressure left his forehead. His gaze turning into cold blue fire as he met the older man's considering expression._

" _I killed him and I feel no shame."_

 _The priest let out a considering hum as the rest of the people gathered in the church began shouting. 'There! See? He admits he murdered!'_

 _Just as suddenly as they started to shout they fell silent once more. The sound of a single voice filled Samuel's ears and he took his eyes off of the priest to see a girl had appeared at the man's side and was now blinking at him with curiosity._

 _Her mouth twitched into a frown and she asked her question again, turning to glare at the mob behind Samuel._

' _Why is he bound?'_

 _Samuel heard the mob shuffle uncomfortably on their feet but none of them answered and the girl turned to receive the answer from the priest instead._

' _Why are they here?'_

 _She pointed an accusatory finger to the mob and stepped toward them, green eyes flashing._

' _Never you mind that Rosanna, just go and get the box, I'll deal with the rest.'_

 _The girl- Rosanna- turned to look at him again. Tilting her head in consideration. She edged away from him. Casting one last glare at the mob before she lifted her chin and stalked off._

 _With the girl gone; Samuel became the center of attention once more._

 _'If anyone among you had good intentions you would untie him,' the man turned to address the crowd of people still standing behind Samuel._

 _'If you had good common sense, you would not have dragged him here in such a manner in the first place.'_

 _The mob seemed to have lost all ability to speak and stared at the man on top of the pulpit in disbelief._

' _I will put this simply, since it seems you do not understand, I hereby pardon him of his wrongs and you are to untie him.'_

' _What of the claims of witchcraft?' The mob leader protested._

 _The priest gave a sigh, reminded of something he had forgotten._

" _Ah, yes, that," the priest turned his eyes on Samuel who flinched from where he knelt on the floor._

" _You heard the man, you are accused of witchcraft, what do you have to say for your on that matter."_

" _... I do not know what it is Sir."_

" _You do not know the meaning of witchcraft?"_

" _No, you misunderstand me Sir... I have never practiced such things in my life I have not seen witchcraft and so I do not know how to claim my abilities and it's hardly something that I openly demonstrate."_

 _The presist gave a considerate hum. "Would you be so kind as to demonstrate these abilities to me?"_

 _Samuel flinched and shock his head, then leapt to his feet as a sudden commotion broke out in the mob. Turning so that the possible threat was no longer at his back, he watched the coward part as a small black shape appeared in their midst; streaking towards the pulpit._

 _Samuel's heart plunged into the stone floor as he recognized the creature coming towards them._

" _Get out of here won't you!" Samuel sighed in exasperation at the small black kitten that lept up the pulpit steps in a single jump and proceeded to turn towards the mob and arch its back with a menacing hiss._

 _Samuel turned toward the priest whom was staring down at the scrawny black cat as if everything suddenly made perfect sense._

 _Samuel inched away from the cat, feeling the need to distance himself from the creature that seemed damning evidence of his apparent crime._

 _He flashed the priest a pleading look, his eyes flicking to the crowd, his fingers clenched around the rope that bound his wrist, forgetting to keep his power in check amidst his panic; the rope snapped, unraveled and turned to ash._

 _The crowd let out a single horrified gasp and surged forward, their own eyes wide with panic and fear, the power underneath Samuel's skin went silent and in desperation he willed it to come back, he thought he sensed it coming again, like a storm building; but before he could call upon it again. He felt something cold press against the center of his forehead and he felt a sudden rush of calm as the darkness of unconsciousness rose up to swallow his mind…._

* * *

Samuel jolted out of his memory and looked down at his feet, the black kitten was nearly invisible in the shadows aside from the acidic green eyes that blinked up at him.

"And what on Earth do you want?"

The cat blinked up at him, twisting around his legs.

"Yes, that's very helpful, if I so much as move you'll trip me."

The cat gave no response other than a purr of what Samuel took to be amusement.

"Go make yourself useful and catch a mouse or something." Samuel prompted, nudging the cat away with his foot.

The cat glared at him and lept up onto one of the pews, walking confidently along the thin wooden back, tail swishing back and forth.

"Don't give me that look, it's not my fault you always show up when I'm not in the mood to talk."

The cat went suddenly ridgid, eyes resting on the doorway that lead out to the street, a small sound somewhere between a growl and a purr raising out of its throat.

Samuel turned toward the door, becoming aware of the sounds of an approaching carriage from outside.

Samuel let out a small sigh and turned to glance at the cat

"Later than usual, shall we go see what kept him?"

The cat meowed in reply and dropped into a crouch, leaping from the bench onto Samuel's shoulder and pacing back and forth along his shoulder blades before he settled down with his tail curled around Samuel's neck.

Samuel stepped to the doors, pushing it open and descending the stone steps to the waiting carriage.

"Late as usual," Samuel teased, swinging open the carriage door. "Later _than_ usual at least. I presume your trip went well?"

"Cannot I not get inside before you start pestering me?" The man chided in a thick French accent.

Samuel smiled. "It's good to see you, Raphaël,"

Samuel offered the old man his hand to help him out of the carriage. "Rosanna will certainly be glad to see you." Samuel added...he cast an uneasy glance when Raphaël didn't reply.

"That _is_ why you're here isn't it?" Samuel prompted, his uneasy only growing when the old man's expression turned into stone, his thin lips pressed into a line.

Even the damn cat poked his head out of the hood of Samuel's cloak to stare at Raphaël curiously.

The old man's expression lightened a bit when he saw the cat and he reached out a hand to scratch the furry animal behind the ears.

Raphaël looked between the cat and Samuel before casting a glance over his shoulder.

He turned back to Samuel and let out a sigh.

"We best get inside before I explain anything to you."

* * *

… _.the sound of her own footsteps pounding on cobblestones echoed as loud as thunder in her ears….running….mother had told her to run...run from what? Why should she run? She turned to face her pursuers and the horse bore down on her, rearing up and…._

Rosanna jolted upright in bed and stared wide-eyed into the darkness. The dream was already fading from her mind and yet she could not shake off that childish sense of fear that was quickly turning into a sickening sense of dread.

There was the echo of a door shutting and Rosanna flinched, her heartbeat leaping into her throat as she flicked her wide eyes toward the door….the dark...a noise of disgust left her throat as she attempted to push down her unease.

"You're being ridiculous," She chided herself. "Only children should be afraid of the dark."

 _But you are afraid of something aren't you, Rosanna?_ Came the voice from the back of her mind as if someone were standing over her shoulder, whispering doubts into her ear.

She suppressed a shudder and pushed herself out of the bed, wading through the shadows to the door and swinging it open; letting wood scrape against stone in a dreadful sound to combat the voice of doubt inside her head. Before she pulled it shut hard enough to make it shudder.

The dark hallway pressed in around her but she did not flinch away from it. She knew this place and could certainly walk these hallways in the dark, perhaps not as easily as Samuel could but she could manage easily enough. She would even be so bold as to smile at the darkest shadows lingering in the alcoves as she passed.

–

…" _What are you doing?" Rosanna jumped out of her skin when she heard the voice behind her._

" _Shhhhh!" She insisted, hissing through her teeth. "I'm sneaking!" Samuel shot her an incredulous look._

" _That's sneaking?"_

" _Yes!" Rosanna insisted, annoyed with the look on his face. "What of it?" She snapped._

 _He lifted his chin, trying to look important. "Girls are absolute rubbish when it comes to sneaking around." He decided._

" _What's my being a girl got to do with anything?" Rosanna demanded._

" _Well I snuck up on you just fine didn't I?" Samuel replied. Rosanna would never admit that he had a right to rub that certain skill set in her huffed indignantly._

" _Well boys are absolute rubbish at being quiet!" She practically spat the last word in his face._

" _There is absolutely no need for you to be so smug about it, just because you're two years old then me and a boy doesn't mean you know everything!"_

" _Oh and you know everything do you?"_

" _I know that someone is coming and I told you to be quiet!" Rosanna clapped her hand over his mouth and pushed both of them into the nearby alcove; waited until the approaching footsteps disappeared down the hallway... Samuel pushed her away from him and glared across the space between them a moment before he disappeared. Leaving Rosanna to stare after him, perplexed….._

 _–_

Hushed _voices reached_ her ears and she quickened her pace, blinking at the faint candlelight spilling out across the stone floor from the room across the hallway….but...that was the Master's study... Samuel would have no reason to be in there at this ungodly hour of the night unless…. A childish grin broke out across her features and she pushed the door open with a teasing reprimand already on her lips…

Samuel beat her to it as he was already staring at the door when she opened it.

"Still horrible at sneaking around I see." He tsked.

"Oh, come off it Samuel if you're going to stand by that statement I'll stand by mine and simply argue that the two of you gentleman were making enough noise to wake the dead!"

She turned to Raphaël when she heard the old man laughing at them.

"Oh you have no reason to laugh about anything, you, Sir, are late and I was worried sick."

"When do you not worry?"

Rosanna scoffed. "Well I wouldn't _need_ to worry so much if there wasn't two of you to look after; the world simply cannot handle two Chat Noirs."

"Precisely why I am retired my dear." Raphaël interjected. "And I'd say you do just fine looking after Sam, still has his head on his shoulders does he not?"

"Not that there's much sense inside of it." Rosanna countered with a pointed look at Samuel who glared.

"If my memory serves _you_ were the one who had the nerve to stare down a mob."

"Only because you refused to grow a spine and do it yourself."

Satisfied that the argument had been settled Rosanna turned her attention back to Raphaël, her tone turning into something more serious and more gentle all at once.

"My question is the same even after all of these years….have you heard anything from my mother?"

A tense silence settled over the group and Samuel flicked his gaze toward his mentor silently willing the older man to speak.

Raphaël let out a sigh and seemed to slump further into his chair.

"Regrettably my answer is as unchanged as yours...I have still not been able to locate your mother, child listen to me-"

Samuel snapped his eyes to Rosanna sensing the spark of fury a moment before it lit her eyes. Defiant hope in the face of imanient despair.

"So that's it? You're just going to give up? If you don't want to search for her anymore then fine, I will not hold it against you. I hold you in high regard for saving my life... I had hoped that you would be able to afford my mother the same...I understand you have failing health... and so I suppose all that I can do now is thank you for trying."

She turned on her heel and marched out of the room. Slamming the door behind her as she went.

* * *

Samuel cast a look at Raphaël.

"Why is it that even when she is upset with you she is perfectly civil?"

Raphaël turned his dark brown eyes on Samuel, an oddly wounded expression on his face…."I had hoped to discuss the matter with both of you but perhaps it is best if I give my apologies to you both….separately…"

Samuel felt a sudden weight settle on his shoulders as he looked at his predecessor's face. Dread settled into the pit of his stomach and he shook his head.

"You should rest, I'm sure that everyone will be better prepared to listen in the morning." He turned a meaningful glance at the door and was walking before he'd even told his feet to move.

"... You understand don't you?" Raphaël spoke up, his insist tone drew Samuel up short and he froze.

"Understand what, Sir?" He asked warily.

A surprisingly bitter scoff left his processor's throat.

"Why I lied... to spare her, and now I shall die with a guilty conscience.. to spare her still... that is our nature is it not, my boy, to spare them from pain?"

Samuel spoke with his eyes still fixed on the closed door, the conflicted feeling inside of his mind growing with each breath.

"You will protect her won't you?"

He tensed and still refused to turn and meet Raphaël's face….it was easier to talk to people when he could not see their faces, even then his tongue wouldn't work. So he lifted his head in the smallest of nods even though he thought even that was unnecessary.

"...What happened to yours?"

Raphael's tone turned wishful.

"God almighty, no need to sound so morbid!" Raphaël chided.

"….We- never found her... I would like to think that I would be a different man if we had….Or if you insist on painting it in a morbid light... perhaps the world simply is more fit for sinners than miracle workers," Raphaël sighed heavily. "Whatever the case, I had to play God alone….no man should play God, Samuel."

Bitterness was apparently contagious. The laugh that espaced his throat as he recalled for the second time that night; the memory of his forced confession

"I am not God, far more akin to the devil I should think."

Raphael's answer was contemplative. "And yet, here you are, calling yourself after Samuel; the prophet who passes judgement."

Samuel's feet unfoze from the floor and yet it seemed Raphaël would not let him escape.

"...Rosanna's mother is dead."

Samuel whirled to face Raphaël, loathing twisting his expression.

"Ah, judgement indeed " Raphaël spoke as if his point were proven.

Samuel felt the power underneath his skin flare with his anger and the candles flickered and died.

"Calm yourself." Raphaël chided gently.

"You lied to her!" Samuel seethed.

"Did I not tell you that I had." Raphaël reminded.

"You let her have false hope for fifteen years and you only admit the truth on your deathbed to save yourself from a guilty conscience in death!"

Samuel's eyes burned, his fingers itched….one touch... one touch and there would be nothing left but ash….he pulled the power back into his skin and turned his back on the dying man before him. "I will hear no more of this and _you_ will tell Rosanna in the morning. I refuse to take on your lie, you are my mentor but that does not mean I will spare you from your consequences."

He shut the door before Raphaël could say another word.

* * *

 **Ok I feel like I should clarify. Just in case anyone is confused. Because timeline!**

 **Raphaël is the man who saved Rosanna, he rescued her when she was five years old and sent her away to London.**

 **Rosanna didn't meet Samuel until eight years later; when she was thirteen and Sam was fifteen. They're now twenty and twenty-two.**


	4. The Disappearance of Alice Bouchard

_Dearest Sister Jennette,_

 _I wish not to alarm you but I have the sense that something is terribly terribly wrong and I am very much afraid._

 _Even now I can't seem to stop looking over my shoulder even though I know I am alone. Jonathan has gone to visit you and now I wish I had gone with him._

 _I should have told him something but I can't seem to figure out why I am afraid. How can I explain something to our brother when I don't know what it is myself? I suppose it was childish of us to fight and for that I am deeply, truly sorry. I have refused to go and visit you in France and now both you and Jonathan are so very far away from me._

 _I've made up my mind, I'm coming to France, weather you wish to speak to me or not but...If I do not make it there... nevermind that- Jonathan will reach you before I or this letter do anyway...if I reach you at all._

* * *

Alice Bouchard pushed the letter up the sleeve of her white dress and stood up from her writing desk. She turned an apprehensive glance to the window and then went to the door.

Her shoes clicking loudly on the stone as she made her way down the hall.

Pausing for a moment outside of her father's door to make sure that he was asleep. Hesitation flickered in her eyes as she considered the matter of her father's health. It was one of the reasons Alice had stayed behind where as Jennette had gone to France.

Alice had called her sister a coward. She regretted that now.

She regretted quite a lot of things she had done. Take now for instance she was beginning to question her decision to go to France in the first place and leave her poor father behind without so much as a word.

Still... what would happen if she stayed? She couldn't help but feel that she would be putting her father at the mercy of some unknown danger…. No her mind was very much made up.

She turned away from her father's bedroom door with a whispered apology and made her way out into the street.

Alice made her way along the street taking care to remain in the light of the street lamps as she made her way along.

She could practically her her sister and brother chiding her for being so bold as to wander the streets alone at night.

" _Any sensible woman travels with company. Perish the thought of you dying out in the street!"_

Alice would normally have scoffed at her sister's ridiculous paranoia but now she couldn't help glancing over her shoulder.

" _Please, Alice, can it not wait until morning?"_ Jonathan would protest.

Alice tucked the letter further up her sleeve and set her shoulders as she quickened her pace.

"No it very well cannot wait until morning John, you see it is very important." Alice muttered to the voice inside her head.

The image of Jonathan smiled in her head. _"Very well, then at least let me escort you to wherever you're going so that you make it there and back without getting yourself into trouble."_

Alice realized that she was talking to herself in an imitation of her brother and she stopped abruptly in the street.

Staring up at the light of the street lamp to keep the tears from her eyes as she was overcome with longing. It had only been a week since Jonathan had left for France but still Alice missed him terribly and wished that he was here with her now, even with all of his complaining he was still far braver than her and certainly braver than Jennette who had run off at the first thought of father dying.

Alice hugged herself and looked out at the shadows that covered the rest of the street. She felt like the only person left in the entire world at that moment.

She shivered despite herself and stepped cautiously out of the circle of light.

She took comfort in the distance sound of water from the river Thames which was somewhere off to her left.

" _Why do you like the river so much? Aren't you worried that some day you'll fall in and drown?"_

Alice gave a final shudder and shook her head to push away her sister's voice.

Goodness she had never realized how dreadfully morbid her sister was.

Enough of this! She scolded herself as she continued on her way, you're nearly to the docks, you get on a ship and find Jenny and Jonathan and then you can scream bloody murder at dear Jenny for managing to scare you when she was an entire country away.

Alice went rigid as she felt air brush against the back of her neck.

 _Oh well that's just bloody typical of you isn't it to imagine something like that?_ She said to herself, even as she turned to pick out a darker shadow looming over her.

She opened her mouth to scream bloody murder but a hand clamped around her mouth and silenced her. Dragging her; wide-eyed and struggling into the deeper shadows of London; And as she was dragged away, she cast her eyes not to the shipyard but across the town toward the spires of the church as she sent a silent plead to God to spare her life.


	5. Foresight is Madness

The figure slunk along, lingering in the shadows of the stone buildings as he made his way to the inn, his steps careful and measured trying to be quiet and not jostle the case strapped to his back.

Jonathan left the cold protection of the shadows to dart across the street to the other side, a black gloved hand flying up to shield his face against the bright rays of the setting sun that splashed the sky with crimson and orange as it began its slow disappearing act over the western horizon washing the world with golden light.

Jonathan turned away from the setting sun, amber eyes glinting with mirth and curiosity as he slipped into the inn, black gloved hand splayed across the faded wooden door to let in the shadow that darted to his side from across the street.

He slipped into a chair in a shadowed corner giving a glance out of habit. Two months ago he wouldn't have even considered coming to such a place but it was places like this that served him rather well. This inn in particular was one of his more frequented haunts. Its proximity to the shipyard meant that he could hear recent news from abroad from the traveling sailors and he could play for the coins that they didn't spend on food or drink. London in particular held a personal interest for him. He hadn't been able to write Alice and inform his sister that he had arrived safely Raphael had forbid he contact anyone especially anyone who happened to have direct relations to him.

'too dangerous' he'd insisted. Jonathan had thought he'd been unnecessarily paranoid even for him and then Brother Dominick had mysteriously disappeared promoting Raphaël to flee to London to seek help from the Master.

Jonathan had yet to hear a word from his employer but if he wasn't going to receive a letter from Raphaël directly then he would have to settle for gossip.

He ran his fingers along the back of his neck; nervously tugging at the brass link chain at his throat and was both comforted and startled as soft fur brushed against his feet from underneath the table. His lips quirked into a half smile as he shifted his position in the chair and unslung the case from off his shoulder placing it gingerly on the floor at his feet. He lifted his hands and pressed the thin golden flute to his lips as a soft melody filled the air around him.

* * *

" _The turtle represents wisdom and bestows long life._

 _The butterfly represents peace and bestows prophecy._

 _The peacock represents guidance and bestows protection._

 _The fox is for bravery and bestows cunning._

 _The bee stands for wealth and bestows motivation._

 _However, of these seven divine animals two were worshipped more than the rest._

 _The ladybug which stands for luck and bestowed miracles._

 _And the cat who stands for caution and bestows misfortune_."

Rosanna woke with a jolt. The memory of the old nursery rhyme chant already fading from her mind as she sat up with a winch, her back and shoulders stiff as she blinked in the late afternoon light.

She jumped suddenly to her feet and glanced around the empty library in shock. Had she really slept all day? Why hadn't anyone woken her? Surely Samuel or the Master would have done such a thing whatever had happened to the idea that they were supposed to talk about their next move?

Had they already discussed something important without her?

Annoyed with herself, she set her stiffened shoulders and exited the library with clipped steps the stretch of hallway between the library and her bedroom that had unnerved her so much the night before now she hardly shivered with uneasy until she was locked behind her bedroom door and had thrown open the doors of her wardrobe in a huff.

She stood there, chest heaving with her uneven and enraged breaths as she took in the splashes of delicate red silk with her green eyes.

She adored the color red not simply for the obvious reasons that it severed a symbolic purpose for her in the pretense of Ladybug. It was a genuinely beautiful color but now the sight of it only brought to mind the image of the horrible rose painted on the wall and it caused her stomach to clench into knots.

She squeezed her eyes shut and proceed with touch alone, pushing aside the feeling of silk.

Her fingers stopped at the soft touch of velvet and lace, a mesh veil instead of silk. Her next breath caught in her throat as she ran her hand along the skirt of the dress tucked away in the back of her closet.

She ripped the dress off of the hook and pressed it to her chest and her eyes snapped open to behold the splash of black fabric through the mist of half shed tears.

Rosanna took a deep breath and shut the wardrobe with a heavy thud.

* * *

The girls on the temple steps flinched away as Samuel opened the door. Well one of them flinched the other was leaning on the shoulder of the other and simply blinked at him as though just surprised to see him suddenly appear in front of her, as though she hadn't quite grasped the concept of a door.

"Sir, I'm Cynthia Charrier. You'll have to excuse us for showing up like this. I heard rumors that the temple would be closed today but Sir...it's my sister. I don't understand what's wrong with her. She's sick I'm sure of it, she's gone absolutely mad!"

"The lost will be found but the river shall swell and swallow and drown!"

Muttered the smaller brown haired girl as she leaned against her sister's shoulder.

"Hush Vivien you're making a scene!" Cynthia chided desperately as she tried to get her sister to stand straight.

Samuel blinked, hand on the door as he formulated a response. "You'll have to forgive me for asking but is your sister drunk?"

Cynthia recoiled in surprise, voice sputtering indignantly as she managed a reply. "No sir of course not! She's been locked up in her room for days muttering this nonsense and I'm afraid they'll send her to asylum if she doesn't recover her senses. Where is the miracle worker?"

Ro- she is not seeing anyone today. I apologise Miss but something very unfortunate happened last night and the Master thought it best that she not see anyone today."

"But I-"

"It's alright Samuel, let them in, I could use a distraction at the moment."

Samuel turned around to find Rosanna standing across the room underneath the threshold of the archway. Her blue eyes fixed on the two strangers standing on the doorstep with a look that held a curiosity behind a carefully restrained sorrow. He'd have to be blind not to realize the faint redness of the skin around her eyes that betrayed the fact that she had been crying. Despite this and the fact that she was wrapped in the black attire of mourning he couldn't help but feel annoyed though he tried to express this gently.

"The Master insisted that you were not to see anyone today."

"Well the day is nearly over with then isn't it? At least let them come in for a few minutes before anyone sees them."

Samuel stepped aside and waved his hand impatiently at the room behind him as he shut the door behind Cynthia and Vivien as they stumbled inside.

Vivien slipped away from her sister's shoulder and fell to her knees on the floor. Cynthia gave a startled cry and reached for her sister but Sam was faster and was already pulling the girl up to her feet.

Vivien froze as Samuel took her hand and fixed her pale crystal eyes on Samuel's face with an expression of mingled fear and pity but before he could pull away Vivien began to speak in that same soft chanting voice that had muttered about a river.

"Hands turn black a heart of gold, bridges crumple, ashes churn and a sickness born of grief untold."

Sam jolted away from Vivien as his head spun, instinctively turning to glance at Rosanna to confirm that the words had truly been spoken aloud. Rosanna was blinking mutely as her lips moved soundlessly. Her dark eyes flickering from Samuel to Vivien once to Cynthia and back again; it seemed a full minute before she spoke to Samuel as if the two other girls weren't even there.

"You don't think…" Rosanna began, coming toward Cynthia and Vivien with cautious steps.

"It could be likely." Samuel finished.

"What?" Cynthia cut in, growing distressed upon hearing even more muttering she couldn't make sense of. "Do you know what's wrong with her?"

"Nothing is is wrong with her," Rosanna reassured gently, crossing the room to place her hand on Vivien's shoulder and squeeze gently.

"I think it best if you and your sister stay here for the night and go home in the morning, the Master will come along in a minute or two and show you to a guest room. I apologise if any of this may frighten you but I really must speak to Samuel alone for a moment."

Cynthia nodded uncertainty and Rosanna smiled softly before turning on her heel and walking toward the Master's study.

–

The smooth wood of the octagonal mahogany box was cool against her shaking fingers as she lifted it out of its glass casing concusios of the two pairs of eyes that bore into the back of her head before she turned and faced the Master and Samuel's guarded expressions.

She set the box down gently on the desk amid parchment and books and bowed her head to the Master. "I would open it myself but I don't know how." She pleaded turning away pointedly so that she wouldn't see what method her teacher used to open the ancient jewelry box; in truth she had been surprised he had even let her go so far as to retrieve it.

"And why should I open it?" The Master inquired. If he meant to be difficult it only came off as guarded curiosity.

"I would think by now that you would know whenever Rosa gets an idea inside of her head nothing's going to get it out. You'd have an easier time getting rid of a leech."

Rosanna wrinkled her nose at Samuel's comparison to her stubbornness but nonetheless tapped the wooden box with an impatient excitement.

"What have you got in your head now?" The Master turned his eyes on Rosanna as they gleamed with mrith. Rosanna opened her mouth to respond but Samuel beat her to it and all she could do was contemplate possibility of nervous triumph as he spoke.

"We might have found the next butterfly."


End file.
